By Any Means
by Ooshii Kurai
Summary: AU. Mild Lang/Viol. Char Death. Amity Park hasn't seen a single ghost in nearly thirty years. That is until a certain boy joins Tucker and Sam's Ghost Hunting club. It's still debatable whether their luck was changed for the better or worst. DISCONTINUED.
1. The Fenton Legacy

**By Any Means**

**Disclaimers**: Danny Phantom does not belong to me. Neither does the box ghost… (oh gawd, say it aint so!!)

**AN/ **Welcome to my newest story. If you haven't read anything by me before, nice to meet you. I hope you enjoy my first attempt at a Danny Phantom fanfiction.

First off, some tips**. This is not in any way shape or form a mary sue.** I believe there is only a few original characters and none of them are main characters. Please remember that and pay close attention. Some characters may be going by different names- hint hint, wink wink.

Second, this story is called an AU- otherwise known as an **Alternate Universe**. Meaning, it wouldn't necessarily follow all the guidelines in the actual show. I'll say now that I'll be making up a lot of ghosts and altering the lives of other ghosts and humans so that they better fit in this world.

Third, I'm writing this story out before I post it. Which will be a considerable change from my usual habit of posting as soon as I finish a chapter. There will be sneak peeks at the bottom with actual clips from the next chapter. **Please skip these if you dislike spoilers!**

And fourth, my author notes will not be this long every time. I promise. First song quote is "Invisible Man" by Queen. So without further ado, onward to the fanfic!

* * *

**Chapter One**: The Fenton Legacy

I'm your meanest thought  
I'm your darkest fear  
But I'll never get caught  
You can't shake me- shake me dear.  
-Queen

**J**ack Fenton had always wanted to meet a ghost. Meet a ghost; meet as in shake hands, exchange pleasantries and perhaps if they had gotten to know each other _really_ well, he could ask to do a little electronic magnetic experimentation, (just once or twice amongst friends).

But he hadn't exactly anticipated _this_.

Jack climbed back to weak knees. He had to catch his balance on the control panel keyboard- which lit up by his light touch. The screen jolted out of sleep mode, instantly alerting all the other numerous joint computers in the lap to wake up as well.

GHOST ALERT! each said in giant block letters across red flashing screens. GHOST ALERT! GHOST ALERT! GHOST ALERT!

_A little late_, thought Jack grimly.

Wiping the congealed blood from the corner of his lips, Jack glared back at the floating specter that had just effortlessly tossed him across the room. Jack never held any disillusions about being thin. He had been a "big guy" ever since he stopped being a "big kid". So for this… _thing_ to have hefted his weight across the lab meant there was much to be desired in his current research of the paranormal.

Like the fact that ghosts could and _would indeed_ hurt humans.

The thing in front of him didn't even look like it _had_ been human once. It had a male body builder-like physic (as if a thing like sex could be attributed to something undead). But its skin was opaque, eyes a bloodshot red, and teeth vampiric.

Weren't ghosts supposed to be transparent, formlessly, and cheerful? Well, perhaps basing some his research off of _Casper the Friendly Ghost_ really was as ridiculous as Maddie had said it was. But it wasn't like he had much material to go off of! Most of his encounters with the paranormal had been via bodiless EVPs and shadowed apparitions, if even that much. This… this was quite unreal.

If he weren't being attacked by the thing, Jack felt certain he'd be in state of shock. What a wonderful experience! To see a ghost with his own eyes! To be able to physically touch it! This was the thing he was waiting all his life for! Oh the scientific break through they had made!!

"Jack," said the wondrous monstrosity.

Jack didn't know whether to shudder or jump for joy. Intelligent life! Communication! It even knew his name! Wait until he told Maddie! She'd be sure to believe in ghosts now!

"You know my name?"

"Of course you miserable dolt," replied the ghost.

"Incredible," said Jack in spite of himself.

"What's incredible, Jack, is that your incompetence hasn't gotten yourself killed yet. Although I was hoping. Sincerely," The ghost let a beleaguered sigh as if it really caused him distress that a human could barely make ends meet. Leaving his wife practically the sole supporter for him and the kids, while he played with his expensive and ineffectual toys in the basement. So far, Jack figured things had worked out pretty well. His wife, although frequently annoyed by his fantasies, supported his work. And the kids loved learning about the craft.

Well, Danny did. Jasmine, his oldest, had hit a bit of trying period but Jack was sure she'd come around.

As the ghost spoke, Jack fumbled beneath the computer counter for his tool belt. Surely there was something he could use to defend himself. Unfortunately, Jack had been mostly concerned in documenting and apprehending ghosts- not defending himself against one.

"I tried to… push it along a little. But I'm afraid you have long since tried my patience."

Jack raised a single eyebrow. Perhaps it _was_ distressed. And why? Surely something that no longer had any earthly ties couldn't possibly be concerned with a human. And certainly not _him_, not _his family_.

Finally, his hands fell upon a small palm-sized device. Thumbing the body, he knew it wasn't one of his electronics but- perhaps the defense it offered against attacking humans might also work against attacking ghosts.

"Uh… I'm sorry?" offered the ever humble ghost enthusiast, careful to keep his weapon behind his back. "Perhaps if I knew what it is that you wanted me to do for you… I could- um. Do it?"

The words came out sounding stupid, even to him. So when the ghost threw its head back and laughed, Jack couldn't help but offer a meek simper of his own. But the coldness in his humor, numbed the man's insides with fear. Somehow, Jack wasn't sure he would like the answer to his own question.

"Oh yes, Jack. Please. By all means," He came close so fast that Jack fell back upon the control panel. The ghost's eerie crimson eyes only inches from his own. "Kill yourself."

The instinct to protect himself finally kicked in.

"Take your own advice, ghost freak!" shouted Jack thrusting the front end of Maddie's taser into the ghost's astro-form. It seemed that luck, for a change, was on Jack's side. His hunch proved beneficial. The electrical sparks surged into the ghost- sending it backwards in a convulsing spasm.

Jack took the distraction to his own advantage. He fled for the stairs, scrambling up them two- three at a time. He slammed open the door and took two steps into the kitchen before freezing.

Daniel, clad in his blue teddy bear pajamas, looked up from his glass of milk with his inquiringly blue eyes. The glass looked ridiculous huge in his small hands. Barely half a decade old, he stood in a sleepy stupor staring up at his startled father.

"I was thirsty," said the boy, not at all bothered by his father's haggard appearance.

"Oh God, Danny," sputtered Jack. "No."

The six year old cocked his head curiously at his father's strange words. He was completely oblivious to the shadow forming up out of the floor behind him.

"Something wrong, Daddy?"

The formless hands were in level with the little boy's neck.

"Get away Danny! Now!!"

Surprised by his father's sudden shout, seeing how Jack was not prone to raising his voice with the children, Danny was given a start. And it clicked somewhere in his young mind that something lay in wait behind him. Perhaps it was the direction of his father's eyes or the sudden goose pimples that were rising up his arms. Whatever it was, Danny decided to turn.

The sight of the red eyed and fanged shadow would have caused even the most courageous heart to quake. Danny blanched. The glass of milk shattered against the floor before Daniel filled his small lungs up with the air to scream.

Jack couldn't reach his son in time. The ghost had the child off the floor by his throat. His one shriek was subsequently silenced- leaving Jack to watch in horror as his son attempted to bat off its intangible grip.

"Two birds with one stone!" cackled the spirit. "Don't worry, Jack. I'll kill your son first- and then you. No need to let you suffer too long. Then the two of you will have all eternity to worry about what to do with yourselves. After all, once I'm done with you, you'll both be so emotionally torn you'll never be able to pass on."

He gave the little boy's throat another squeeze. Danny's body constricted accordingly causing the ghost much pleasure. And Jack's horrified expression was worth every miserable and lonely second of his afterlife.

"Why are you doing this?" pleaded Jack. "Please. Let my son go! I'll do anything- just please… don't hur- don't kill him!"

The ghost rolled his eyes. "Oh please. I'm not negotiating, Jack."

Bored of the child's dry gasps, it drew back and threw Danny at his father. Jack only just managed to catch his son before falling down the stairs. The two tumbled backwards in a violently confusing mess of limbs, before coming to a halt at the bottom of the stairs.

Jack pushed himself back onto his knees. Danny had fallen out of his father's arms and laid unconscious a bit further up on the staircase. Apprehensively, Jack watched as his assaulter took step after calculated step down the staircase. His footsteps echoed in the open basement.

He stepped over the motionless form of Jack's son, instead proceeding downstairs towards the fallen father. Seeing that his son, for the time being, was safe spurred action back into Jack. He tried to climb to his feet but was caught tight by a sharp pain from his leg. Broken.

Undeterred, Jack crawled his way back to the Fenton control station. The ghost followed a leisurely pace behind, amusement coating his voice as he taunted, "Jack. Where do you think you're going, Jack?"

Jack drug his body across the floor, ignoring both the pangs from his leg and the encroaching unconsciousness in the corners of his vision. He painfully pulled himself up onto a control panel, deliberately punching in a series of coded sequences. Still the ghost approached.

A teardrop fell upon Jack's palm as he typed, giving him only momentary pause. He hadn't even realized he had been crying. He blinked past the welling tears as he sent one last sidelong glance his son's way.

I'm sorry, he wanted to say. Somehow Jack knew that his son would be doomed to finish this. Purpose pulsed deep inside his heavy heart. Destiny caught thick up in his lungs. He finished the last string with a purposefully push on the enter key.

"Are you going to have your computer attack me?" said the ghost, right behind him now.

Jack didn't even bother turning. He wiped the tears from his eyes and smiled weakly into his own reflection and that of the ghost behind him. _Incredible_, Jack couldn't help from thinking. _Ghosts have reflections. Wait until Maddie hears-_

He corrected himself with a slight shake of his head. _Come now, Jack. Don't kid yourself anymore._

The ghost's hands began to flare a gruesome incandescent green. It cast both the ghoul's and Jack's features in an almost timeless glow. Jack took a deep breath and looked into the ghost's red eyed reflection. The coldness in his eyes startled even a creature of the dead.

"See you in hell."

He pressed the enter key once more.

And the Fenton's basement, in a violent explosion, ripped itself free from the rest of the house.

* * *

To Be Continued…  
Please Read and Review!

Oops. Sorry about the cliffy, folks. Well not really. But those who know me, should know by now I have a tendency to cliff hang everything.

Anyway, that was fun. Writing in Jack's perspective. That was a lot easier to pull off than I thought it would be. This is actually more like a prologue than the actual first chapter. But I lose count of the chapters if I start with zero.

PREVIEW CLIP FOR NEXT CHAPTER!  
The three still standing individuals looked on in bewilderment when someone from the crowd decided to suddenly and recklessly cut through. Nonsensical as it was, they had accidentally managed to save Sam from entering a potentially fatal catfight. After all, Paulina's nails were something to be feared.

The interceder was a young boy hardly older than Sam herself was. He wore a rather dull assortment of colors- red and white shirt and blue jeans. But his eyes. His eyes were an astonishing blue from underneath an unkempt mess of dark hair. Sam thought for sure she had seen him around before, but his name escaped her at the moment.

He met her questioning stare unflinchingly. Something passed between them, something that Sam herself wasn't yet aware of. A spark? The sense that something was starting? Was that ridiculous?

And then it was over. Dash had the boy by the collar- finally something he could actually wail on. The boy squeezed his eyes shut, just before someone caught Dash's wrist.

"_Roots of Western Tradition!_ Just what is going on here?"  
END CLIP!!

Please review! I'd really appreciate the feedback people, since it's my first Danny Phantom fanfic and all. I wanna make sure I get all the characters right.

And by right, I mean personality wise. Obviously I've changed a few things for the A/U (i.e. Maddie not being a ghost fanatic like Jack).

Let me know what you think! Next chapter will be posted two weeks from today! Keep your eyes peeled!

BEWARE!


	2. The Ghost Loser Club

**By Any Means**

**Disclaimers**: Danny Phantom does not belong to me. Neither does the box ghost… (oh gawd, say it aint so!!)

**AN/ **To alleviate any future confusion, since this story is dealing with the passage of time, I will offer a small tip. The events of the first chapter occur at least thirty or so years prior to the events of the second chapter. So about in the mid 1970s or so. This half of the story takes place in the year 2010.

_Jazz's Birth_— 1967  
_Danny's Birth—_ 1969  
_Jack's Death_— 1975  
_Sam & Tuck's Current Time_— 2010

Did I mention I love the box ghost?

Song quote this time is "A Modern Myth" by 30 Seconds to Mars.

**Last Time on BAM:**  
A vengeful spirit attacks Jack Fenton in his own home.  
Quote: "See you in hell."

* * *

**Chapter Two**: The Ghost "Loser" Club

Did we create a modern myth  
Did we imagine half of it?  
-30 Seconds to Mars

**S**am could have told her best friend exactly what was going to happen during their investigation of the old Vanderclute Manor. They'd do the thermal and the EMF sweeps, (though how on earth Tucker managed to come up with such expensive _Fenton_ merchandise, heaven only knew). He'd attempt a séance. Do some pointless white noise incoherently filled EVPs and video tape every inch of the place. In the end, they'd only jump at the house settling and the occasional stray animal. And their hours of footage would only reveal some orbs that she and Tucker would bicker over pointlessly until they both agreed on it either being dust or bugs.

Yes. She could have saved Tucker and herself the trouble. But she also knew there was no dissuading her paranormal obsessive friend. _I told you so,_ never seemed to keep them from going on another investigation. She didn't even believe in ghosts. But to amuse Tucker, she tagged along on his self appointed missions of first contact.

After all she had no idea that it would evolve into an after school program. Being the founder's best friend made her instant second in command. That brought the Casper High's Paranormal and Ghost Hunting Society up to two members, Tucker and herself.

At least she had something to put on her future college applications under extracurricular activities. That was if she survived freshman year. Being the only goth and having an active part in one of the most ridiculed after school clubs in Casper High's history, called for a lot of bullying. Sometimes by a blonde haired brute named Dash Baxter, whom Sam was far from being afraid of. And mostly, if not all, by the leading high school beauty knockout, Paulina.

Most people rooted for her when she stood up against Dash's torments. But her defiant attitude against their class' leading lady, seeming to earn her more scorn than high fives. Most girls admired Paulina. And most boys were hopelessly in love with her. To stand up to her was like spitting in the face of England's queen.

Unfortunately, Sam frequently did it. Paulina just rubbed her the wrong way. At least she could always take comfort in the fact that Tucker would never abandon her.

Sam followed sluggishly behind that of her energetic companion on their walk to Amity Park's only public school. She was only half listening as he blabbed on about a combination of new ghost findings, Jasmine Fenton's latest book release on the paranormal titled Ghost Envy (which Tucker exclaimed was simply genius!!), and of course whatever new gadget he had managed to order from the internet. Sam was startled out of her stupor when Tucker suddenly thrust his PDA in Sam's face.

"62 percent complete!" said Tucker excitedly.

"Huh, what?"

Tucker frowned but chose not to address his friend's inattentiveness. "Our Ghost Hunting Society's website. I started working on it last night."

"Website?" Sam yawned. "Really, Tucker? We're the only members."

"Yes, but this website is sure to draw in more members! Look," He pulled up his pullover to show her the dark t-shirt he wore underneath with the words "Casper High's Leading Ghost Hunting Expert!" hovering just above a cartoonish graphic of a ghost.

Sam rose one eyebrow in response. Tucker grinned and pulled out another shirt from his bag, "See. I made one for you too. If we wear these, by the end of the day I promise we'll have a new member!"

"Tucker," Sam sighed staring sympathetically down at the t-shirt she was handed. "I don-"

"You have no excuse not to wear it," interceded her dark skinned friend. "I made them in black especially so you wouldn't be able make an excuse. Come on, Sam. Would it kill you to help me out this once?"

Sam sighed again before reluctantly slipping the tee overtop her tank top. "Honestly, Tucker. When am I not helping you out?"

Tucker just grinned, "That's what makes you such a great buddy, buddy!"

Sam couldn't help but smile back. Her best friend since elementary school, Tucker Foley was the only person she could manage being infuriated and amused with all at once. She couldn't even remember a time where he wasn't at her side. If she had a sibling, Sam was certain they would be nothing like Tucker. Which would probably be for the best. She probably wouldn't get along very well with any sibling of hers. Especially since she was such an odd ball coming out of her prim and perfect millionaire parents. But she'd like it if Tucker could have been her little brother.

"So are we still on for tonight?"

"Tonight?" Sam looked nervously at the steel gray morning sky. "It looks like it's going to rain."

"So? Maybe it will thunderstorm… That would create an even better atmosphere, don't you think?"

"But if it rains it might get your equipment wet…"

"And by equipment, Foley, she means your pen-"

"Back off, Baxter," snapped Sam at the brutish football star that had just come up alongside them. "Or I'll knock your teeth in."

"Oooh," cooed Dash, still matching stride with the goth and techno geek. "It's a pleasant surprise to see you out during the daylight hours, Manson. What, no longer drinking people's blood?"

"Nope. On a diet."

"Bet my neck looks mighty tasty huh?"

"Dash, ignoring the fact that your question was entirely _creepy_, your blood probably has the same consistency of sulfuric acid… that or piss. Neither would taste very good, if you catch my drift."

Seeing that the argument was falling out of his favor, the football jock wisely decided to cut his losses and change topics. He spotted their t-shirts and offered a widening grin,

"Still in that Ghost "Loser" Club then? Catch any ghosties lately?"

Tucker, who was never good dealing with Dash's bullying, paled. Knowing that he wouldn't be able to defend himself very well against a teenager three times his size, Sam stepped in again for her friend.

"Leave Tucker alone, Dash. What we do with our free time is none of your business."

As soon as she said it, Sam instantly regretted it. Dash's grin grew ever wider. He stopped walking and cuffed his hands over his mouth to sing a shrilly rendition of _"Foley and Manson sitting in a tree. K-I-S-S-I-N-G!"_

Sam stopped as well, trying to avoid meeting Tucker's eye. The poor guy looked like he was blushing scarlet from the tips of his copper colored hair to his toes. Sam really felt for her friend. No one really deserved to be as bullied as Sam often got him.

"Shut up, Dash."

"Make me," retorted Dash.

"What's going on?"

Sam shuddered at the sound of the Hispanic valley girl accent. How anyone who sounded as annoying as that could be princess of Casper High, was beyond the goth.

Sam caught a whiff of Paulina's fruity hairspray before she even came in Sam's line of sight, throwing herself on Dash's arm. Although she and Dash were often together, it could never official be said if they were dating or not. Despite her tendency to cling to the jock, she was never unwilling to go on a date with someone more popular/handsome at the drop of a hat.

At Paulina's entrance there seemed to be a sudden crowd forming around the four of them in the school courtyard. Sam cast a glance at the outside wall clock, regretting not having managed to survive the last few minutes before school without running into these two.

Paulina sent Sam a skeptical look, "Oh. I thought I smelt something."

"Right back at you," muttered Sam under her breath.

"Was batgirl bothering you again, Dashy?" cooed the Hispanic pop princess.

"No, no," said Dash. He really seemed completely ignorant to her clinging, or perhaps just entirely used to it. Their closeness made Sam herself feel that much more uncomfortable. She made a mental note to never cling to any of her future boyfriends… at least in public.

"We were just talking about their little ghost club. I was thinking about joining."

Tucker visibly paled. Sam took her friend by the shoulder to steady him. Obviously this wasn't what he meant by getting a new member.

"You're not welcome, Dash."

"What? Afraid that I'll cut in on your quality time with Foley?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Dash," laughed Paulina. "Samantha doesn't date _the living_. Don't you know? That's why she's in the ghostie loser's club. Cause the only chance she has at getting laid is in hell!"

It was too bad, really. Sam had been hoping to get through this day without incident. But ever since her parents cheerfully chimed her wake up call this morning, her fist had been itching to connect against flesh. Unfortunately for Paulina, she had just become the straw the broke the camel's back.

Sam drew back and socked her one right between the eyes.

Paulina screeched and fell back onto the damp grass, clutching at her bleeding face. Dash stood helplessly, not sure if he was supposed to deck one on Sam back or help out the fallen princess. It was much harder on him when he was dealing with women.

Sam unclenched and clenched her fist, ignoring the pain in her stinging knuckles. It hurt, but man did it feel good.

"You little bitch!" Paulina shrieked clawing her way back to her feet, blood pouring from her nose. "I'll tear your damn eyes out!"

But before she could even take a swipe at the goth, she was suddenly collided into from behind- sending her sprawling across the grass again. The three still standing individuals looked on in bewilderment when someone from the crowd decided to suddenly and recklessly cut through. Nonsensical as it was, they had accidentally managed to save Sam from entering a potentially fatal catfight. After all, Paulina's nails were something to be feared.

The interceder was a young boy hardly older than Sam herself was. He wore a rather dull assortment of colors- red and white shirt and blue jeans. But his eyes. His eyes were an astonishing blue from underneath an unkempt mess of dark hair. Sam thought for sure she had seen him around before, but his name escaped her at the moment.

He met her questioning stare unflinchingly. Something passed between them, something that Sam herself wasn't yet aware of. A spark? The sense that something was starting? Was that ridiculous?

And then it was over. Dash had the boy by the collar- finally something he could actually wail on. The boy squeezed his eyes shut, just before someone caught Dash's wrist.

"_Roots of Western Tradition!_ Just what is going on here?" barked the bald English teacher, Mr. Lancer.

It seemed that for a change both Paulina and Dash's tongues were caught in their mouths. Sam took the opportunity to replay the favor to he rescuer.

"It was an accident, sir," explained Sam coolly. "He accidentally knocked into Paulina. He was just trying to apologize to them."

"Ah yes," said the boy, quickly catching on. "I didn't mean to hurt you, Paulina! I'm really sorry!"

"Is this true?" inquired Mr. Lancer on the remaining two.

Paulina, knowing that fessing up to fighting would only get her in just as much trouble, decided to play along. Dash nodded only after seeing Paulina's verdict.

"Alright," said Mr. Lancer. "Then I suppose it would be safe for you to put Mr. Grafton down, Mr. Baxter. Unless of course you would like to spend your time after school with me?"

Dash immediately compiled, dropping the boy back on his feet. The boy gave himself a quick brush off, not daring to look either Dash or Paulina in the eye.

"Well, what are you all standing around here for? Don't you all have class to be attending? Ten minutes, hup hup," shooed Mr. Lancer, dispelling the curious crowd of onlookers. "And miss, I'll escort you to the clinic so you can get your injury checked out."

The students all filed their way back into the school building, Mr. Lancer and Dash leading a weary Paulina to the clinic, leaving Tucker and Sam behind with their mysterious rescuer.

"Thank you," said Sam with a smile, offering out her hand to shake his. "My name's Sam."

The boy looked at her hand and then back to her face, unimpressed. "Whatever. I know who you are."

Then without a backwards glance, he slung his backpack back over his shoulder and followed the rest of the students back into school. Sam watched him leave, a furious blush forming on her cheeks.

"What a jerk!"

"Don't take it personally, Sam. Riley does that to everyone," Tucker said. Now that the commotion was over, he seemed to have regained sensation in his tongue. "He's not a real talkative guy. Actually I think that's the first time I heard him speak… aside from role call."

"That doesn't make him any less of a jerk," said Sam crossing her arms in clear disapproval.

"Well yeah, I guess. But I have to say, that was pretty cool. He must like you Sam."

"Like me?"

"Yeah. To coming charging out of the crowd like that. He pushed Paulina pretty hard too. I've never seen him do anything like that before. Usually he avoids… things like that."

"Most people avoid things like that…" She paused, what Tucker had revealed starting to sink in. "Wait. You mean he didn't accidentally knock into her?"

"What? No. I saw him, Sam. He pushed her. He looked rather pissed too," Tucker let a sneaky grin slip across his lips. "He's cute, right? Want me to hook you up with him?"

"Ugh. No, Tucker. What's your sudden urge to be matchmaker anyway? What happened to chasing ghosts?"

"I just want you to be happy, Sam. And who's to say I can't have a side job?" He smiled again before heading for the school doors himself. "Suit yourself. But I think the two of you would really hit it off. Both sullen and miserable. Maybe you could exchange morbid apocalyptic poetry?"

"That's not funny, Tucker," said Sam following suit. But she couldn't help the little thought from emerging in the back of her mind. Despite how much she wanted to avoid it and how it made her blush, Sam could not deny the fact she had indeed found Riley Grafton attractive.

* * *

**S**urprisingly, Sam had gotten through half the school day without any further scenes. It didn't get out that she had punched Paulina in the face, despite everyone having seen her do so. Rather instead the whispers were focused around the mysterious Riley Grafton and how he seemed to have taken a liking to that creepy Mason girl. Sam didn't know whether to feel relieved or irritated.

Paulina went home. Apparently the damage to her nose, although insubstantial, caused too much trauma for her poor little mind, (emphasis on _little_). Once again, Riley was blamed for Paulina's state of health… even if it were an accident. Sam caught Dash cracking his knuckles in the hallway- talking about how he was planning to corner Grafton as soon as he could to exact Paulina's revenge on his face.

Sam had thought about stopping to say something. After all, she was the one who punched Paulina- not Riley. But the memory of Riley's cold eyes on her extended hand, made her keep walking. Why should she care if he were taking punches for her? It wasn't like she asked him to.

She kept reminding herself she didn't care all the way till lunch. Unfortunately years of overlooking him, came back to haunt her. It figured that now when she didn't want to see him, she practically zeroed in on his location at the back of the cafeteria.

He sat by himself eating from a paper sack lunch consisting of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, grape juice box, and bag of mini pretzels. Riley ate quietly and quickly as if afraid someone might take the food away at any moment, occasionally flipping through what looked to be a small collection of comic books. Sam caught herself watching him once or twice, in frustration. She blamed it on the fact that she was hungry and had forgotten either a bag lunch or money to purchase food. To distract herself from the mysterious Mr. Grafton, she focused on drumming a tattoo into the table top.

"It's kinda sad that he sits alone over there all the time," Tucker's voice shook Sam once again from her thoughts. "I heard that he transfers between schools every two to three years. He must be pretty miserable moving that much."

Tucker laid down a meat-free lunch for his best friend before digging in to his own carnivorous meal. Sam found quite suddenly that she really wasn't as hungry as she had originally thought. She poked her fork as the plastic like iceburg lettuce before trailing her eyes back to where Riley sat, finishing the last bites of his sandwich.

"We should invite him to eat with us," said Tucker suddenly.

Sam barely had the time to protest before Tucker stood up. He and his tray of meat went smartly over to the raven haired boy. Feeling that it was a bad idea, Sam listlessly followed- only just remembering to bring her untouched salad with her.

"Hello," said Tucker cheerfully.

Riley looked up, rather startled to see that the African American boy had been speaking to him.

"May we sit here?" Tucker continued sitting down before Riley could say anything against it. Sam grudgingly took a seat at his side, not bothering to look at Riley's bewildered expression.

"I wanted to thank you for what you did for Sam and I this morning. That was pretty cool, standing up to Paulina like that. I don't think I'd ever seen a guy do it before," said Tucker smoothly.

Riley blinked his wide blue eyes at the two of them in turn, before crumbling up his empty paper sack. "Uh, right," He said after a pause. "You're welcome, I guess."

He eyed their matching shirts skeptically for a moment before asking, "Ghost experts?"

"It's our club," explained Tucker proudly. "Casper High's very own Paranormal and Ghost Hunting Society. Sam and I are the founders."

"More like Tucker's the founder. And I was dragged along," said Sam somewhat spitefully before stabbing into her lettuce with a plastic spork.

"Right," agreed Tucker. "Sam's just a real great friend who accompanies me even though she doesn't believe in ghosts."

Riley sent Sam a curious look, "How can you not believe in ghosts?"

Sam felt her insides churn. _Oh no. He's another Tucker!_

"I know, right!" exclaimed Tucker, estatic that someone else shared his views on the paranormal. "Would you like to join our club?"

"So do you like fight ghosts and stuff?"

Tucker was given pause. "Um. Fight? No," He shared a look of incredibility with Sam before turning back to the task at hand. "We video tape them. You know… to document proof of their existence."

"Oh," said Riley, disappointment clearly evident on his face.

Sam noticed the collection of super hero comic books at the hook of his elbow. Spiderman, Fantastic Four, and Teen Titans.

"You like super heroes?" asked Sam pointedly.

A visible blush burned at Riley's cheeks. He quickly shoved the comics back into his book bag, only offering explanation through a mumble, "Yeah… a little. Sometimes when I'm bored."

Probably only to change the subject, Riley eagerly turned his attention back to Tucker, "So do you go to haunted places?"

"Uh, oh yeah. Mostly in Amity Park though. You know, several years ago Amity Park used to be the ghost capital of the world. It was the most haunted place in the United States!"

Riley smiled wryly, "Yeah. I _had_ heard that."

His response sounded almost sarcastic to Sam. She couldn't tell if it were because he was skeptical or if he found the information "no duh" ish. The latter didn't make sense to Sam, so she figured Riley was more of a skeptic than he let on.

"We're going on an investigation tonight even. You know the old Vanderclute place? We're going to set up camp there tonight and see if we can catch anything."

Riley seemed to mentally debate about this tidbit of information for a few minutes before finally meeting Tucker's eye. "Can I come along?"

"Oh course you can!" exclaimed Tucker, pulling yet another black teeshirt out of his backpack and tossing it his way. "Welcome to the team!"

Riley looked down at the soft teeshirt in his hands and smiled. It was astonishing, that smile. It seemed rare. As if he hadn't quite used it in a long time. Sam felt herself, with certain astonishment, wanting to keep the smile on the boy's face just a little bit longer.

"Thanks, Tucker," Riley said pressing the shirt tight to his chest. "Thanks a lot."

* * *

To Be Continued…  
Please Read and Review!

If you guys don't know who Riley is, shame on you. I shouldn't need to say it.

This may feel a bit slow moving at first. But just stay tuned. I promise you shant be disappointed. After all, the Casper High Ghost Hunters are about to run into their first ghost!

Watch **Ghost Hunters** and **Ghost Hunters International** on the Scifi channel to see how the real professionals do it. It's a real fascinating show, whether you believe in ghosts or not (since they go into places trying to disprove hauntings). Or check out their website- google TAPS or Trans Atlantic Paranormal Society. There really is lots of cool history to learn from these haunted places as well (which is my favorite part… Oosh' equals history geek).

PREVIEW CLIP FOR NEXT CHAPTER!  
"Aaaaanyway," continued Tucker. "My dad saw ghosts on a regular basis back then. He was even really good friends with one of the famous Fenton Ghost Hunters. David. He was our age, you know."

"I thought his name was Derek."

"I'm pretty sure it was David," said Tucker indignantly. "David Fenton. He was best ghost hunter ever! And only a freshman! Him and Valerie Gray... they were _real_ superheroes. I reckon between the two of them, they might have rounded up more than four hundred different ghosts, sometimes more than once!"

"What happened to him?" asked Riley.

Tucker smiled, knowing that Riley would be interested in one of his own admired idols. But the question did bring a bit of sobriety to his voice as he continued, "He died."

"Fighting a ghost?"

"No, although that would have been awesome," Tucker frowned at the two's disapproving faces. "Apart from the whole dying thing, of course. Actually, I don't really know how he died. I just know it made my dad pretty upset. He doesn't like to talk about it. The most I can tell is that it was... unexpected."

"Most death is, Tucker," retorted Sam coldly.

"I mean... Geez, you know!" He flailed his arms out about himself as if their flapping would shed anymore light into what he was explaining. "It came out of nowhere. Once he was here," He clapped his hands together causing both Sam and Riley to flinch. "And then next he gone. Just like that. Instantaneous."  
END CLIP!!

Please make sure you review! Your feedback BEWARE!! is very important to me!


	3. Vanderclute Manor

**By Any Means**

**Disclaimers**: Danny Phantom does not belong to me. Neither does the box ghost… (oh gawd, say it aint so!!)

**AN/ **Another chapter. Another update. Please enjoy the continuation. Remember always to review so I know what you think!

Song quote this time is "Thriller" by Michael Jackson.

**Last Time on BAM:**  
The Casper High's Paranormal and Ghost Hunting Society welcomes its newest member.  
Quote: "So do you like fight ghosts and stuff?"

* * *

**Chapter Three**: Vanderclute Manor

Cause I can thrill you more than any ghost would dare to try  
-Michael Jackson

**T**he end of the school day couldn't have come any sooner. But unfortunately, Sam figured, her misery was far from over- now that Tucker had gotten his wish. A new team member. As if it weren't bad enough staying out all night with one ghost fanatic, now she'd be stuck with two. Two boys goggling over dust particles and white noise. The only thing could be possibly worse than the impending investigation tonight would be the coming Monday where Sam would have to face the mended Paulina.

"Come on, Sam. Give him a chance," said Tucker, practically skipping to keep up with Sam's quick stride. "He's really not that bad once you get to know him a little."

"Tucker, he's an anti-social comic book nerd. He probably thinks of your club as being a step closer to obtaining his super crime fighting powers. Didn't you hear him back there? Fighting ghosts. Even if ghost _did_ exist how the hell do you _fight_ them?"

"Ghost Hunters in Amity Park used to."

"Tucker... You know how I feel about Amity Park's so called Ghost Hunters."

"Aw. Now you're just being mean. Just because a guy reads a few comic books doesn't mean he's obsessed. For all you know, he might be a poet."

Sam scowled. "Will you get off it?"

"Not until you admit that I'm right," huffed Tucker with an air of indignation. "You _do_ like him."

"Alright, alright. I do find him... _mildly_ attractive," said Sam at great length before quickly adding. "...in an obnoxious self-centered way."

"See. Was that so hard?"

Sam consciously made the choice to not to answer. Instead she steered Tucker underneath the scrawny pear tree just on the outskirts of the school yard. Blowing some dark strands of hair from her face, she sent Tucker a warning look, "Speak a word of that to him and I'll knock both your heads together."

It was no idle threat, but Tucker couldn't keep the grin from his mug.

"You only like him cause he liked your shirt," said Sam bitterly.

"And you're only miffed at him cause he blew you off."

"A perfectly logical reaction!"

"Hey Riley! Over here, buddy!" Tucker interrupted, waving over someone behind her. Sam turned in time to see the black haired boy emerge from the crowd exiting the school doors. He quickly spotted Tucker, and waved back- though not as enthusiastically.

Riley was sporting the same ghost shirt the rest of the team and Tucker was beaming with pride.

Sam grumbled so only Tucker could hear, "Buddy?"

"Hey why not? He's a good guy, Sam. You'll see."

Riley made his way over, rather ungracefully. It was easier to see how he may have accidentally run into Paulina earlier that morning. He was about as intuitive as a bull frog, often stepping in front of people still walking or walking into people who had stopped. It was almost as painful as watching Tucker attempting to eat a salad.

But he had _purposefully_ run to Paulina, Sam reminded herself. He cut through a crowd and knocked Paulina clear off her feet. Which was a much more difficult task than one would think. Just because she was a cheerleader, didn't mean that Paulina was delicate. She had a mean slap that would bring tears to even the toughest guy's eyes.

"Hey Tucker, Sam," greeted Riley brightly.

Sam regarded the boy's demeanor with certain surprise. Although he was far from having Kwan's optimistic grin, Riley suddenly seemed... happier. Had Tucker done that? Sam found it hard to believe that only a day had turned a sullen practically invisible classmate into a actual person. From sarcastic cynical teenager to mild mannered soft spoken friend. No, no it was not possible.

Something did this. Sam was sure of it. Something had made Riley suddenly want to be nice to them. _But what?_

"Okay, we're meeting in front of the manor at seven sharp. Make sure you bring a jacket, Riley. The manor is on river front property and has a tendency to get real nippy at night. Especially since the house was practically hallowed out after the last owners abandoned it," explained Tucker carefully. "Try to leave your house early so you can- um. Actually... where _do_ you live, Riley?"

"I can get there," answered Riley.

Only Sam seemed to notice how he had evaded the question.

"If your parents want you home at a certain time, I'm sure me or Sam could walk you back."

"No, it's okay. I can stay."

No "_my parents say it's okay"_ or _"I don't have a curfew"_. Sam realized that she didn't know Riley very well yet. But his vagueness and tendency to skip around questions, made her nervous. What if his parents got mad at them for taking Riley out to a haunted location? Or worse, they called the police when he turned up missing?

It was okay when it was just the two of them hanging around old buildings late at night. Sure her parents bitched about it, but they trusted the Foley's. And Tucker had proved to be an admirable and likable lad when interrogated by Sam's parents. They trusted her with him.

But now that they had other members, Sam figured it might be time to talk to Tucker about getting new members to sign some sort of permission form... or waiver.

It was a little late for Riley.

Riley instinctively ducked just as a fist flew over top his head. Dash only cackled in response, returning to his trek off the school grounds.

"Look, Kwan. The two lose-kateers just became the three lose-kateers," said Dash in passing, elbowing his tall Asian friend to their direction.

Sam was about to snap back when she spotted Kwan giving Riley a small wave that Riley returned sheepishly. If Dash had wanted to cream Riley he would have stayed. Obviously it was Kwan's presence that kept him from doing so. As soon as the two jocks had passed, Sam rounded on Riley.

"You and Kwan are friends?"

"Wh-what?" Riley flushed. "No. Well not really. He's my science partner... Is that bad?"

"Yeah, Sam. _Is it?_" snapped Tucker, irritated that Sam had yet again tried to find fault in their newest team member.

"Uh, no. I guess not."

"He's an okay guy. When Dash isn't around," said Riley absentmindedly.

And in his faraway look, Sam felt her guilt surge back again with fresh vengeance. He really _was_ just a lonely kid. The only person who ever took the time to notice Riley, had to via obligation. And then was subsequently forced to disassociate themselves with Riley to maintain their social status. It had to be hard- having that sort of lousy luck.

"I'm sorry, Riley," said Sam gently.

Riley sent her a peculiar look that she skillfully dodged with a smirk and back hand wave, "See you all later tonight."

She left Riley and Tucker behind her, for once actually unsure on how an investigation might turn out.

Riley watched her go before leaning towards Tucker to whisper, "Does she-"

"Why, yes indeed, she is available," interceded Tucker with a friendly slap on Riley's back.

Riley went scarlet, "That's not what I was going to ask."

"But it's what you _wanted_ to ask."

Riley was silent for a several seconds before adding, "Great, Tucker. Now I forgot what I was going to ask."

* * *

**S**am glared down the raindrops that had begun pelting on the hood of her new Circus Gothica sweatshirt.

It figured.

She shoved her bare hands deep into her sweatshirt's kangaroo pocket and quickened her pace towards the far side of town. The rain was starting to pick up when she spotted Tucker only a ways ahead of her. Per usual, he was gliding his way uphill on his electronic scooter.

She cuffed her hands over her mouth and called out to him. He slowed his scooter to a dull putter so that Sam could catch up.

"It's raining."

"Need a ride?" Tucker offered without skipping a beat.

She grabbed hold of his offered hand, and pulled herself on behind him. She kept her arms tightly locked around his waist- having already made the mistake once of thinking Tucker's scooter was simply "a scooter". He curled his wrist down hard on the accelerator hard, racing the raindrops up the hill.

Sam buried her face in Tucker's shoulder to keep the frigid rain out of her face. She was hardly in the position to see Tucker's face go red, although she figured it had. Tucker didn't really offer her rides on the scooter as much as he used to when they were younger. Although she missed it, Sam knew full well how uncomfortable it made him.

He was wearing his father's letter jacket that smelt lightly of peppermint. The smell dulled her anxieties so that she almost forgot that she was about to spend all night in an old abandoned house, without heating.

"Do you think Riley found his way?" Sam asked, hoping to distract Tucker from the obvious fact a girl had him by the waist.

Tucker didn't answer right away. Sam almost thought he hadn't heard her before his wind subdued shout finally drifted back to her, "He's already there."

Sam looked to where her best friend pointed. Right on the Manor's front lawn underneath an obnoxiously green umbrella stood Riley. He appeared anxious, carrying a few bundles under his arms. At their approach, he rushed over quickly bringing the large umbrella to their aid.

"Alright there, Riley?" Tucker called out parking the scooter against the curb. "Hope you weren't waiting too long."

"Yeah, no. I just got here," said the boy handing each of them one of the bundles. "I brought you guys some blankets. You know... to be helpful."

Sam fingered her own provided bundle tenderly. With her sweatshirt now soaked through, the blanket was a very welcome surprise. Perhaps it was nice to have Riley with them after all.

The blanket was still warm from Riley's body heat. The thought, for some reason, caused Sam to blush.

"See?" Tucker playfully elbowed Sam, not offering any other explanation for it before deftly folding his scooter back into its more portable form. Stuffing the whole thing back into one of three bags, Tucker nodded towards the manor.

"Let's get inside before the storm picks up too much."

All three ghost hunters dashed across the muddy lawn to the large arching oak doors. Tucker procured a key from his jacket pocket for the ominous looking chain lock, and in they went.

The foyer was just as empty and hallow as the rest of the house. Tucker waited until his other two dripping friends were inside before shutting and fastening the lock behind them. It was pointless security, mostly to keep out punk teenagers. Tucker himself knew the previous owners. To shut up his constant inquiries about the manor, they gave him a duplicate of the key.

That was usually how he got access into most haunted places. Talking the owners into submission. Surprisingly, it was a highly effective method.

"Well," said Tucker waving out his arms as if to totally encompass their vast surroundings. "Welcome to Vanderclute manor. Home to the Vanderclute family for thirteen generations, built in 1629. Should be a great investigation. Potential for activity both intelligent and residual. And built alongside a river front- which is good for us because..."

"Running bodies of water increase the chances for paranormal activity," finished Riley, shaking the loose droplets from his now closed umbrella.

Tucker and Sam both stared at the newcomer as if he had suddenly grown a second head. Riley flushed under their questioning stares.

"My parents used to be ghost hunters."

"Here in Amity Park?"

Riley had started to nod before catching himself. "No. Not here. On the west coast."

"There are a lot of hot spots on the west coast?" asked the ever eager Tucker.

"Uh. No. They weren't very successful. A lot of dead ends. So they... quit."

Sam couldn't help but notice he seemed flustered, speaking about his parents. It wasn't as if he spoke of them without fondness, as Sam would for her own. No, he spoke of them awkwardly. As if he weren't used to addressing the subject.

"We used to have a lot of ghost hunters here in Amity Park back in the 70s and 80s. Then when the ghosts disappeared, so did they," explained Tucker as if the idea saddened him.

"That's because the whole thing was a hoax," said Sam.

"Oh come off it, Sam. Not another one of your conspiracy theory speeches."

"It was all for tourism, Tucker. There's no possible way that Amity Park had _that_ many hauntings. They all came out of nowhere and left just as quickly. A span of decade- and not a peep since. Hardly coincidence."

"But that's just ridiculous, Sam," snapped back Tucker. "That would mean that the whole town was in on it. You forget my dad lived in Amity Park back then. He saw some of the ghosts with his own eyes! Are you implying that my dad is lying?"

"Maybe he wasn't aware..."

"Maur-oon."

Sam and Tucker paused in their familiar argument at Riley's soft spoken insert. Once again he had stunned them into silence.

"That was my dad's nickname in high school."

It seemed Tucker's voice jolted Riley back to his senses. For the second time that evening, he blushed brightly. "Sorry, I was... recognizing your jacket. I- uh, noticed it from my father's yearbook. Marching band, right?"

"Oh," Tucker's clouded expression fading. "Your dad attended Casper High too? What's his name?"

"Oh uh... um. Ben... jamin."

"Hm. I don't recognize the name. I'll ask my dad-"

"No, that's okay," said Riley rather hastily. "He was a transfer student. I don't think he was even in the yearbook."

He laughed nervously, leaving both Sam and Tucker exchanging glances.

"Aaaaanyway," continued Tucker. "My dad saw ghosts on a regular basis back then. He was even really good friends with one of the famous Fenton Ghost Hunters. David. He was our age, you know."

"I thought his name was Derek."

"I'm pretty sure it was David," said Tucker indignantly. "David Fenton. He was best ghost hunter ever! And only a freshman! Him and Valerie Gray... they were _real_ superheroes. I reckon between the two of them, they might have rounded up more than four hundred different ghosts, sometimes more than once!"

"What happened to him?" asked Riley.

Tucker smiled, knowing that Riley would be interested in one of his own admired idols. But the question did bring a bit of sobriety to his voice as he continued, "He died."

"Fighting a ghost?"

"No, although that would have been awesome," Tucker frowned at the two's disapproving faces. "Apart from the whole dying thing, of course. Actually, I don't really know how he died. I just know it made my dad pretty upset. He doesn't like to talk about it. The most I can tell is that it was... unexpected."

"Most death is, Tucker," retorted Sam coldly.

"I mean... Geez, you know!" He flailed his arms out about himself as if their flapping would shed anymore light into what he was explaining. "It came out of nowhere. Once he was here," He clapped his hands together causing both Sam and Riley to flinch. "And then next he gone. Just like that. Instantaneous."

The silence rang with the sting of Tucker's words. It was Riley who spoke next, his voice somber, "At least he didn't suffer."

"Yeah," interjected Tucker rather pathetically. "Still was a shame. I would have liked to meet him... Get his autograph."

At this Riley smiled, "Get his autograph?"

"Hell yeah. I'm his biggest fan. Did you know he once took down a ghost armed with only ball point pen?"

Riley rose an inquiring eyebrow, "How did he do that?"

"Nooo idea. But I would give anything to find out!"

"If you fan boys are quite done squealing all over a dead guy, could we get set up?" grumbled Sam discarding her wet sweatshirt and draping Riley's blanket over her bare shoulders and damp tank top. "I'd like to get home before dawn."

Sam barely caught the tinge of pink rising on Riley's cheeks. It was clear there was still a lot she still didn't know about the mysterious Mr. Grafton. But nothing that she didn't plan to find out.

* * *

To Be Continued...  
Please Read and Review!

David Phantom! _Going ghost!_

Yeah. I'm a dork... So everyone stop and look at the name Grafton. Think about it. It's made up with two last names from the show... figure it out and you get a cookie for being a smarty pants!

**I got rid of the next chapter** because i felt like it gave too much away and it felt too out of place. I didn't like it there. So those of you who read it, you got a little spoiled. Those who didn't, don't worry about it. You'll get it later.

PREVIEW CLIP FOR NEXT CHAPTER!  
"Would you like to take over this session, Riley?"

Riley glanced over to Tucker, "Oh uh. Sure."

Tucker set the recorder down on the floor between the two of them and sat. Riley clumsily followed suit. Sam decided to stay right where she was. She had with intention to ask the imaginary ghosts anything.

"Is there anyone with us tonight?" asked Riley casually while Tucker swept an ambient thermometer around the two of them. "Would anyone like to speak with us?"

"Give a bit more time between questions, Riley."

"Ah. Alright."

They sat in silence for a few moments before Riley took a breath and asked again, "Are you trapped here?"

Sam laid down on her back, lazily watching the chandelier very lightly sway with the chilly night air. It seemed like another predictably boring night. At least, she that's what she figured. She was just about to let fall her eyelids- to get a quick nap before she heard Tucker take a sharp intake of air.

"The temperature is dropping."  
END CLIP!!

Makes sure you leave a review, please! I'd appreciate it! Next update should be up on September 26th. Stay tuned!


	4. Phantasm

By Any Means

**Disclaimers**: Danny Phantom does not belong to me.

**AN:// **I usually like to let people know where my inspirations come from when I start writing a fanfic. But I forgot to namedrop in my haste to get my ideas down on paper. So I think I'll give credit now so you all can rush over and read their stuff.

First, I was greatly inspired by a fanart piece called DP: Why by _DS-Hina_ on Deviantart. I won't say how or why. But go look, cause it really is a stunning picture.

Second I was inspired by two brilliant fan fictions. Estrelas by _Shimegami-chan_ and I'm Still Here by _Cordria_. If you read either of those, you'll see where I'm coming from. But I'm pretty sure my twist on the idea is still pretty nifty too.

Song quote this time is "Ghost Busters" by Ray Parker.

The **Daniel's Trust** chapter was deleted because I felt it was out of place. If you didn't get to see it, don't worry- it will show up later when the time calls for it.

**Last Time on BAM:  
**Sam, Tucker and Riley start their investigation of Vanderclute Manor.  
Quote: "We used to have a lot of ghost hunters here in Amity Park back in the 70s and 80s. Then when the ghosts disappeared, so did they."

* * *

**Chapter Four**: Phantasm

Lemme tell ya something  
Bustin' makes me feel good!  
-Ray Parker

**"T**wenty three hundred hours. Tucker, Sam and Riley in the Vanderclute ballroom," said Tucker in his handheld recorder, "Starting EVP session."

Sam let out a sigh, settling herself and Riley's kindly given blanket down on the dusty floor. Her joints had already started to ache. Four hours and no activity, not that that was surprising. She was starting to wish that there had been furniture left in the house just so she could have a proper place to sit down. The ballroom was the blankest most boring part of the entire building. Not to mention the coldest. Tucker always liked to save it for last.

At least Riley seemed to be enjoying himself. He explored the building with earnest, opening every closet and examining even the groves in the floor. Sam half wondered if he had come to investigate ghosts at all or had just come to peer around the old house.

_What is his deal? _thought Sam bitterly watching the boy as he stared up in awe at the hanging chandelier. _You might've mistaken him for a kid in a toy store with all his enthusiasm._

"Would you like to take over this session, Riley?" said Tucker suddenly jolting Riley out of his daydream.

Riley glanced over to Tucker, "Oh uh. Sure."

Tucker set the recorder down on the floor between the two of them and sat down. Riley clumsily followed suit. Sam decided to stay right where she was. She had no intention to ask the imaginary ghosts anything.

"Is there anyone with us tonight?" asked Riley casually while Tucker swept an ambient thermometer around the two of them. "Would anyone like to speak with us?"

"Give a bit more time between questions, Riley."

"Ah. Alright."

They sat in silence for a few moments before Riley took a breath and asked again, "Are you trapped here?"

Sam laid down on her back, lazily watching the chandelier very lightly sway with the chilly night air. It seemed like another predictably boring night. At least, she that's what she figured. Sam was just about to let fall her eyelids- to get a quick nap, before she heard Tucker take a sharp intake of air.

"The temperature is dropping."

Sam raised her hand to feel the air around her. "Funny," she said nonchalantly. "It doesn't feel colder."

"It's just here," said Tucker urgently sweeping the thermometer back and forth in front of Riley. "It's just right here around Riley."

Riley leaned over Tucker's shoulder to watch as the digital numbers continued to decrease. His eyes narrowed as he sat back down. Suddenly he shivered violently, a mist escaping from his parted lips.

"Geez," Riley gasped hugging himself for warmth.

"There's 20 degree difference. The cold spot seems to be forming around you, Riley."

"Can't the cold spot form around someone else now?"

"Don't be silly! This is so cool!" said Tucker with far more enthusiasm than anyone else. "Don't stop, Riley! Keep asking questions!"

"But my body is going numb," grumbled Riley vigorously rubbing his hands together.

Tucker rolled his eyes. Seeing as though Riley, spooked by the sudden drop of temperature, wasn't going to- Tucker took over the question asking, "Are you the one dropping the temperature around Riley?"

Riley leaned back on his hands. The instant his palm touched the bare floor, shadows slipped from the walls. Music creaked into existence, echoing off the walls in a strange almost circus like trill.

Sam let out an airless shriek. Apparitions formed all around them. Transparent people in boldly colored southern ball gowns, spinning in glorious and graceful circles. Riley and Tucker grabbed onto each other, horrorstruck at the appearance of the faceless ball room dancers.

"Oh my god. It's a residual haunting!" said Tucker, squeezing Riley's arm too hard. "I can't believe it! Look! They don't even see us!"

He scrambled through his duffle back for a digital camera. Tucker shed the recorder of its container and pointed it towards Sam as the ghost dancers drifted through and passed her. Sam continued trying to swat them off with her blanket. She swung at them and still they swirled around her- undeterred. Soon she was covered in a massive spiral of color. Again Riley felt the icy chill shoot down his spine.

"Sam!" cried Riley as he broke away from Tucker.

As soon as Riley reached the shrieking girl, the ghosts evaporated into thin air. Sobbing and trembling, Sam threw her arms around Riley's neck and cried into his shoulder. Awkwardly, he supported her weight. Her touch brought sudden feeling back into his chilled skin.

"Oh god. What the hell was that?!" She cried. "That was awful! They were everywhere!"

"I told you! I told you Amity Park was still haunted! I told you ghosts existed!" Tucker cheered, practically clicking his heels together as he came over. "You didn't believe me. But I was right! I was right all along."

"Tucker, I swear. If you do not shut up right now, I _will_ punch you..."

But far from looking threatening, Sam still kept a trembling grip on the front of Riley's shirt. The two made eye contact and then flushed- Sam quickly releasing him.

"Uh. Thanks Riley," said Sam in attempt to compose herself.

"Don't mention it."

"Let's go explore some more!" interjected Tucker excitedly. He locked arms with Riley, intent to drag his good luck charm along. Sam quickly grabbed onto Riley's other arm- suspending the poor boy between them.

"No. Let's not. I wanna go home, Tucker. I never agreed to- _this..._ to _actual_ ghosts!"

"What? But what did you think the whole point of this was?"

Sam rolled her eyes, "I didn't think there was a point, Tucker."

Riley cleared his throat, attempting to look dignified even though he was stretched between two people. "I agree with Sam, Tucker. Perhaps we should walk Sam home."

"You don't get an opinion, Riley! You're biased!" snapped Tucker indignantly, causing Sam and Riley's cheeks to flare red. "This is between me and Sam!"

Riley was about to say, "_no... I'm between you and Sam," _but wisely decided to keep his mouth shut.

"How could you be stupid enough to go on a ghost hunt when you're scared of ghosts?"

"I never said I was scared of ghosts!" retorted Sam, pulling down hard on Riley's arm in her frustration. Riley flinched. "I just never expected to actually run into anything! This is above our heads, Tucker! Didn't you listen to the old stories- how ghosts used to _kill_ people!"

"Oh so _now_ you believe the old stories!"

_**Hier**__._

Riley rubbed his ear subconsciously.

"Oh don't you dare start, Tucker. You know as well as I do that I only agreed to go on these things because there really was no chance we'd encounter anything!"

_**Kom hier spook-jongen...**_

Riley looked curiously from both Tucker and Sam. There seemed to be a voice layered over their own. Or was he simply imagining it?

"So you only came along to watch me make a fool of myself. Is that what I'm hearing, Samantha?"

_**Kom hier nu! **_

"Ohhhh, you so did not just call me th-"

"Guys! Do you hear that?" interrupted Riley pushing the feuding pair apart. Both Tucker and Sam paused hearing nothing but the rattling of the storm winds against that boarded windows. Sam opened her mouth first but Riley quickly shushed her.

_**Hier! Kom hier nu!**_

"I don't hear anything, Riley!" exasperated Sam.

"It sounds like another language," Riley stared distractedly up at the ceiling where the bodiless voice seemed to emanate from. Then he turned back to his fellow team members. "Do either of you know another language?"

"I know some Japanese! _Konni-chi-wa_," offered Tucker rather unhelpfully.

Sam and Riley glared at the techno geek. "It's definitely not Japanese," said Riley.

"Well how do you know? Do _you_ speak Japanese?"

"If we need to _domo arigatou_ anything, you'd be the first to know, Tucker," said Sam unable to keep the humor from her voice. "But I doubt very seriously that any ghost in this house is Japanese."

"It could happen..."

"It sounded more European to me," continued Riley in the hopes of dissuading another argument from starting. "Like... German or Italian..."

_**Kom aan me het geest van Daniel!**_

Riley whirled back to the other two in the room, "Please tell me you guys heard that!"

Sam opened her mouth to say, no she really hadn't, but swallowed her words at Tucker sudden, "Oh my god, I did. What _was_ that?"

Riley offered a small smile even though he felt his arms were trembling. "Not Japanese?"

"No. Not Japanese. That sounds like... Dutch!"

"Dutch?"

"The first family that built the Vanderclute Manor were Dutch immigrants," explained Tucker while hastily shuffling through his back of ghost hunting equipments. "Perhaps this ghost doesn't know English or at least... not much."

"Really?"

"Well why not? If you died speaking another language, you aren't gonna start speaking English for the convenience of a ghost hunter, are you?"

"I guess not."

"That's why, us ghost hunters have got to be prepared," said Tucker proudly revealing another one of his seemingly endless gadgets. This one appeared to be a PDA. A rather high tech one that looked like it had been modified by Tucker himself.

"Prepared for what?" said Riley rather perplexed.

"This baby will translate what the ghost is saying. I've got over hundred fifty obscure language translators stored into his database. I'll just... set it to dutch/english... and type... kom aan me..."

Riley and Sam peered over Tucker's shoulder as he typed rapidly into the small data screen. He hit enter and on flashed the words _Bowl to me it spirit of Daniel._

"Bowl to me?" read Riley skeptically, after having taken the PDA from the baffled techno geek. He paused at the rest, his tongue pressed tight against his teeth.

"Somehow I don't think your translator doodad works very well, Tucker."

"Well maybe... she's a bowling ghost?"

"Riley, is there something wrong?" said Sam at last noticing the pallid expression that had come over Riley's face. He looked faint- his eyes still seemingly captured by the words scrolling across the PDA.

"Spirit of Daniel," he whispered.

"Someone you know?" said Sam curiously looking over his shoulder. The digital readout didn't seem to speak the same sense it had to him. Unintentionally, her hand brushed his forearm. She was shocked by the chill emanating from his skin, practically stabbing her own exposed flesh.

"Shit, Riley!" She exclaimed recoiling from him. "You're freezing."

Riley opened his mouth to let pass another frigid mist from his lips. He shuddered, squeezing the electronic device tightly in his trembling grip. The cold was coming close to unbearable.

_It hasn't been this bad since... _Riley's thought was caught off when Sam suddenly threw her- his blanket over his shoulders. He blinked.

Sam then surprised him further by taking him by his arms and vigorously rubbing his arms through the blanket. With Sam standing this close to him, erased all his previous conscious thoughts. He just stared blankly into Sam's face as she stubbornly refused to look into his. She ran her hands down to his own- trying to rub back the warmth that had escaped him.

"How can stand being that cold, Riley?" She scolded fiercely. "Are you insane? You could catch your death in this weather. Next time you get this cold, tell us!"

"Hey now, leave me out of this," said Tucker retrieving his PDA from the couple. He passed a look between the two of them, Riley practically in Sam's arms, before offering a sly smile. As soon as the smile was made, the two quickly separated. Riley, bright red in the face, wrapped himself more tightly in the blanket as he turned away from the goth.

Sam, with her arms pinned across her chest, fought a furious blush.

"I was just-" Sam started.

She was cut off by the sound of a piercing laugh cutting through her own voice. Sam screamed when someone grabbed her from behind. The laugher subsided. Sam was pissed to find the two white faced boys clinging to her. Riley had her about the waist while Tucker had her other arm.

Sam roughly pushed both boys off her. "You jerks," she snapped. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."

"Sorry, Sam," offered Tucker meekly for the both of them.

"God," she sighed, shaking off her rattled nerves. It was bad enough seeing floating apparitions and hearing bodiless voices without having people grabbing you from behind. She was about to tell them so too, when the laugher came back- still shrilly but slightly muffled in volume. At least this time, both boys refrained from jumping into her arms.

Instead Riley only just gripped her sleeve. He looked even worse, his forehead suddenly glistening with sweat. Sam twisted her hand around to catch his hand- still freezing cold. Was he sick?

"We need to find the source of that laugher," said Riley, in a voice steadier than he looked.

"_We_ don't need to do anything," retorted Sam. "You need to sit down, Riley. You look as if you're about to keel over... I think you _did_ catch something."

She pressed the back side of her hand to his forehead. His skin felt cold and clammy. At her touch, Riley recoiled.

"I'm fine," he said.

"Iunno man. I think Sam's right. You don't look too good," said Tucker, concern overtaking excitement that had once controlled his perspective.

Riley looked as if he were about to say something to his defense but held his tongue. He took a deep breath and suddenly dashed off- leaving both Sam and Tucker dumbstruck behind him. He made it into the foyer before they even thought to call after them.

Forcing himself to take even breaths, Riley swung around the front banister and dashed up the staircase two steps at a time. Sam was right on his tail with Tucker lagging behind. She actually grabbed hold of his blanket- staggering as she ripped it clear off his shoulders. Then she made a snatch again, this time catching his arm at the top of the staircase.

"You idiot!" Sam shouted, unrelenting in her grip. "The upstairs floor is all rotted. We could fall through!"

"It doesn't matter," gasped Riley. "I need to find him!"

"Find who?"

"I can't-" He breathed out a cloud of mist again. Riley shuddered, his eyes going to the dark perilous hallways that extended beyond their reach. _So close... So close!_

Tucker came alongside them, casting nervous glances to the shadows. "We've never been on the second floor before. The owner said it was hazardous... parts of the floor have fallen away."

"If we stay above the ballroom we should be okay," said Riley determinedly. "The ceiling there was perfectly in tact."

"Says _you!_ People haven't walked across it in who knows how long!" said Sam, still against going any further. "This is the kinda of thing Indiana Jones does. Not kids. Not us."

Tucker sent her a long look. "Indiana Jones... really?"

"What do you want me to say? 007?"

"How about nothing? Nothing's good."

While the two were arguing, Riley made another attempt to escape. Sam pulled him back by the shirt sleeve angrily, "God dammit, Riley. What is wrong with you?"

Riley whirled about, his face livid, "Come on! Are we ghost hunters or not?!"

"...Wha?"

"There's clear evidence that _something_ is going on here!" protested Riley. "Who are we to walk away? We have it in our hands! Proof of _ghosts_! We need to chase it! If we don't, who will? Who's to say this ghost will even be here tomorrow, or the next day or the next? Who's to say it will even be here ever again?! We'll have to live with this decision the rest of our lives! To act or not to act- and I am damn well am _not_ going to let _another_ ghost slip away from me!"

The two were rendered silent. It took Tucker a moment before a smile spread wide across his face, "Hell yeah. That's what I'm talking about! Let's get some ghost!"

_Another ghost...?_ Sam shook the thought away. Perhaps his parents weren't the only ghost hunters, after all. "That's very nice, Riley. But that still doesn't defeat the fact that this floor could give way underneath us!"

"To hell with floors."

"Yeah, to hell with them."

Sam sent Tucker a fierce glare that he immediately cowered under. "Aw come on, Sam. I wanna catch a ghost!"

"Well, I'm sure as hell not going to get myself killed chasing a stupid ghost," snapped Sam stubbornly, wrapping the discarded blanket back around her arms.

"Wait here then," said Tucker, taking Riley by the elbow again. "We'll be right back."

Tucker had barely the time to switch on his digital camera before Riley was dragging him down the corridor. They stuck close to the walls, where the support would be stronger. It wasn't long until their footsteps faded and Sam could no longer see them.

Sam stood on the top step, tethering from heel to toe, foot to foot- her eyes anxiously scanning the darkness for her friends' return. Seconds turned into minutes. Eventually, Sam sat down. She glared angrily at her feet, blanket pressed between her chest and knees. She bit at the flesh on her lips trying to remind herself that she really didn't believe in ghosts. And this was all some big prank someone was planning on her... somehow.

**Ah. Hier komt hij. **

Sam sat up abruptly. That was a female's voice. She heard it as clearly as if it had been spoken in only the next room. Fighting back the terror that was rising in her throat, Sam crept to her feet. She abandoned the blanket on the stair and started down the corridor- opposite of the way the boys had gone.

"I don't believe in ghosts. I don't believe in ghosts," Sam muttered to herself as she walked.

She rubbed her bare arms trying to ignore that the hallway was getting progressively colder the father that she went. The floorboards groaned with every step. Once or twice a sharp creak would sound- making Sam think that she was sure she would fall through. Finally she had reached the end of the wing. Moonlight spilled in from a window opposite of a half opened door.

A thick fog was rolling out from the doorway. Reluctantly, Sam parted it and peered into the room. She couldn't make out much. The room was cluttered with a remarkable amount of old white sheeted furniture. Stuff that must have been forgotten or abandoned as the floors ceased to prove safe. All she could make out was the opposite window and its moth eaten curtains waving solemnly in the after rain wind.

**Welkom geest van Daniel.**

Sam covered her mouth to stifle her gasp. It wasn't so much the voice that surprised her. But rather the apparition that had suddenly landed on the window sill. The ghost climbed through the window, and rose up. He looked no older than Sam herself was. And if he hadn't just climbed through the second story window, Sam might have considered him nothing more than a normal kid. But not only was he wearing some sort of strange tracksuit of dark black and white- his hair was a snowy white. And not that bleached white that some goths attempted to capture- no. His hair seemed to glow.

And Sam could see right through him.

* * *

To Be Continued...  
Please Read and Review!

Enter Danny Phantom!!

Please excuse my poor version of Dutch. It's simply Babel fished.

PREVIEW CLIP OF NEXT CHAPTER!  
Sam screamed when the door crashed open in a flash of light. The force of the blast knocked her forward, just enough for someone to grab her from behind. She crashed to the floor the ghost boy on top of her, his glowing fist poised above her heart.

He paused, his dark expression melting into one of bafflement.

"Girl," He said stunned, as if she were the ghost and not himself.

Sam regained her senses after he spoke and screamed again. She tried to kick him off her but her arms and legs just went through his body. The sensation from each kick as if she had dipped them into the freezer. The ghost, on the other hand, seemed not to feel a thing- only cringing at her shriek.

In the distance, she thought she heard Tucker shouting her name. But before she could manage any sort of reply, the maniacal female laughter had started up again.

"Verdomme," spat the ghost boy. He pushed off the floor so that he was floating a good distance above Sam before saying, "Get up girl. Run!"  
END CLIP!!

I apologize for the long time between this chapter and the last. But now we are getting on to the good stuff.


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